Page 108 of All That Remains
"You make me fuckin' insane!" he hollered, leaning in defeat against the door over my head. "I'm already late..."
He still had no clue how much he meant to me, and that was for my own protection. If he couldn't take the hints I’d laid outfor him to find without becoming skittish, then there was no way he could handle the riptide within me, waiting to drown him.
"You said it was you and me against the world, remember? And now you're just...leaving? Leaving me alone to fend for myself? You're the only one who knows how to take care of me." He looked me in the eye and I could see the guilt making his thoughts vacillate. "Yousavedme. Youprotectedme. And if you leave now, it's like you never did any of that shit in the past, alright? How am I supposed to be ok?"
I was breaking him down and it both pleased and perturbed me. It was nice to know he still cared, but what I was doing was devious. I was guilting him into staying, and I never wanted to be that person. I knew how much he cared for me and it was selfish to use that against him. But the thought of waking without him—the thought of going onstage with the rest of the boys and performing without him? That was insufferable to the point of making me crave death.
He inhaled through clenched teeth. I never saw it coming. There was a sudden throbbing pang in the back of my head. I could hardly register it before it came again, the agony far more pronounced. I was so dazed I couldn't see straight. I lost hearing in one ear. Only when he let go of my hair did I realize he'd grabbed me by the scalp and slammed my head into the door repeatedly.
I couldn't find words to express the sudden terror of knowing he might kill me. I gazed through a blur of tears. Excruciating pain shot down my spine. That's when it happened. He hit me square in the face for the first time with his ringed fist, sending my head back into the door once more. Looking to impart maximum damage. My lip popped like an overripe grape. Blood sprayed onto his white tee and down my chin. All of my teeth ached.
I dropped onto the floor in horror. A searing pain ripped through my face, and all I could do was sob uncontrollably. I was so desperately hurt I couldn’t fathom what to do. I had no strength to rise and leave, and I was too terrified to reach for my phone and call for help. I was so afraid of him I didn’t want to move. The agony only intensified. I lay covering my face, wailing— blood gushing from my mouth.
Out of nowhere, he snatched me up and lumbered into the bathroom, dumping me in the tub with a brutal carelessness. Utterly unsure of what to do with me, like I was a corpse to be disposed of. He turned on the faucet and the water was freezing. He left me there without a word, exiting the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
I lay awkwardly, body contorted and raked with anguish. Still sobbing aloud like a wounded five-year-old. He’d dropped me so hard onto the cold porcelain I was sure my back and hip would bruise. After shutting the water off, I lay and got more comfortable, afraid to leave lest I provoke his wrath again. I didn’t want him to think I was calling for help like last time. It had all gotten out of hand, and law enforcement was involved once I dropped by the emergency room with enough damage to raise eyebrows.
I wouldn't leave until he said it was ok. In the meantime, I fingered my lip and couldn’t stop sobbing at how painful the laceration was. It was bad enough for stitches, but I told myself I couldn’t go to hospital without landing him in deep trouble.
Not after all the questions they'd asked before. There'd even been a formal inquiry by the label, during which I had to insist the fight was mutual. It wasn't. It never was. But because I was also a male, this fact hardly mattered. It’s not like he’d hit someone defenseless, or worse, a girl. I could’ve fought back, but never had the balls to. That was on me.
I'd provoked him back then, just as I had today. Truth was, just because he was more naturally predisposed violence, doesn't mean I didn't do my own damage, in my own way. I knew how to press his buttons, and in some ways, that was worse.
***
He entered the bathroom briefly, only to toss me a bundle of ice wrapped in a towel. He didn’t say a word, simply tossed the bundle onto my chest and exited as quickly. I would discover later he’d canceled his flight. I didn't feel the least bit triumphant, since he'd rescheduled for later that night, but at least I’d accomplished my goal. Not once did it dawn on me I was holding him hostage. We were so accustomed to our sickness, I never realized how often we held each other captive.
I dozed off against the gurgling drain. A while later when I awakened, I gazed into the mirror and surveyed the damage. I wasn’t prepared for the gore. It was bad. Like needing-sutures bad. The bottom lip had split open to a considerable degree, leaving a deep red gash in the flesh. My mouth was swollen to twice its normal size. Blood dripped down my chin like I was some kind of cannibal. When I opened my mouth further, I saw blood lining my teeth.
Exiting the bathroom, I surveyed the room. He was still on the balcony, brooding away. Grabbing his cigarettes and lighter, I ventured onto the balcony, opening and closing the sliding door as soundlessly as I could. He was sitting with his back against the glass parapet, ignoring the monumental cityscape behind him. We were over twenty stories high, so the winds were unforgiving.
The traffic below went about their normal commute while he and I were suspended in time. I handed down his cigarettes and he accepted. I sat beside him, so close our arms overlapped,still pressing the bloodied ice pack to my mouth. With his first exhale, smoke sprouted before us. His anger had finally abated.
"It's cold out," I said, through the towel. My damp shirt left me freezing.
"Yeah...with the wind chill."
"I'm sorry..." I began, trying to be diplomatic.
"For what?"
"For stressing you...for embarrassing myself. For making you miss your flight."
"Yeah well..." he said in a way that only he could. As if to say'shit happens.'"It's alright. You're stressed too."
I nodded and felt goosebumps crawl over my arms. Pigeons were legion, pecking about the balcony next door and taking flight in impossible droves. The night threatened to close in on us, with a sense of finality that made my chest heavy.
"Have you reached your mum?"
"Mm-hm."
"What'd she say?" I wondered.
"C'mere..." he murmured, butting his cigarette.
I lay across his lap, facing his belly. Weeping again because I was so afraid of how bad things had gotten. He scratched my scalp, bending to kiss my reddened ear. I shut my eyes. It waseverythingI needed. Forgiveness, reassurance, warmth, solace—all things I'd been craving for weeks.
I shifted and faced the sky. He nudged my nose with his, before pecking at my bloodied lips with inquisitive kisses.
